


look at the wonderful mess that we made

by preshire



Series: misadventures of nick grimshaw and harry styles [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-29
Updated: 2013-01-29
Packaged: 2017-11-27 09:17:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/660304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preshire/pseuds/preshire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>harry styles and nick grimshaw like each other. like, a lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	look at the wonderful mess that we made

**Author's Note:**

> this is just going to be a compilation of short gryles works i've written throughout my wanderings on the interweb. transferring from my tumblr to here! 
> 
> disclaimer: this totally happened. (i wish)

1.  
title: we're made out of blood and rust  
word count: 1,038  
summary: harry and nick talk weddings. hypothetically. 

 

we're made out of blood and rust  
looking for someone to trust  
without a fight  
i think that you came too soon  
you're the honey and the moon  
that lights up my night

 

“Hey Nick?”

Nick craned his neck up to look at the popstar cradling his head in his lap.

“Yeah Haz?”

“Do you ever think about getting married?”

Harry stared straight ahead, avoiding Nick’s eyes. He continued to stroke Nick’s hair softly, as if he wasn’t conscious of his movements.

Nick turned his head back to face the ceiling. “I suppose.” He answered, tone casual to match Harry’s. “If I found a nice lad, who my mum liked and such.”

“You’d need to fly to Canada, probably.” Harry commented, lips crooking up into a smile as he stared dreamily at the opposite wall.

“Well, we’re talking about a universe where someone’s agreed to marry me,” Nick scoffed. “Let’s assume we’ve achieved international equality in this parallel dimension.” 

This time it was Harry’s turn to scoff. “You’re not so horrible that no one’d marry you, Grimmy. But still, I don’t think I’d mind getting married in Canada. Somewhere in Quebec, maybe. French Canada, you know? Sounds romantic.”

“Why don’t you just get married in France? It’d be a lot cheaper than jetting halfway across the planet.” At Harry’s disbelieving look, Nick stumbled on, “not that you need to worry about ever being strapped for cash.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, but getting married in France is such a cliché. Three girls in my year have gotten married in Paris. I’ve got the wedding invitations to prove it.”

“Celebrity perks,” Nick giggled. “Everyone wants you at their wedding.”

The two laughed briefly, before trailing off into comfortable silence again. They had reached that place in their relationship where they did not feel the need to fill every silence just for the sake of it. They could sit like this, Nick’s stretched out on the couch with his head in Harry’s lap, who’s feet were criss-crossed on the coffee table. The TV was off, but Nick’s iPod was playing music from the dock in the kitchen. Two mugs of tea were cooling on end table, along with both of the phones, with the volumes on silent. This was Harry and Nick time.

“Yeah but, Quebec, right?” Harry spoke after a few moments. “How can you not love Quebec?”

“Easily,” Nick stretched, arching his back as he yawned. “I’ve never been. And besides, you may not even have to go all the way to Canada to get married. You could still marry a girl, right? Isn’t that what you bi-chaps do? Ow!”

Harry resumed playing with Nick’s hair after flicking him on the nose. “I think I’d still like Quebec no matter who I happened to marry. Just think, rent a limo, go to the Ristorante Tre Monti, buy them out of wine…”

“Ristorante Tre what?”

“Ristorante Tre Monti.” Harry sighed, exasperatedly. “I may have done a bit of research already.”

Nick turned his head to look back up at Harry again. He had a quite spectacular view of his jawline, afterall. Shouldn’t waste it. “You’ve been researching _wedding venues?_ Have someone special in mind at the altar with you?”

Harry still refused to meet his eyes. “Maybe.”

Nick laughed, softly. It wasn’t a mocking laugh, more of a bewildered one. “You’re honestly the strangest 18 year old I’ve ever met, Harry Styles.”

Harry tensed his jaw, as if thinking about that statement, but then relaxed it. He looked down to grin at Nick, and he briefly had 15 more chins than he usually had. It gave Harry a welcome ugly appeal. Perhaps Nick could restrain himself from kissing him silly if he continued looking like he was an imposter who had eaten the real Harry Styles.

“You love me.”

“I suppose so.” He reached up and pressed a pinky into one of Harry’s dimples. “Only ‘cos you look somewhat like a puppy.”

Harry furrowed his brows, which only increased his appeal as a puppy. “No I don’t,” he said grumpily. “I look rugged and masculine.”

Nick burst into loud laughter. “I think The Wanted have taken the slot as ‘manly boyband’. One Direction’s left with being the Backstreet Boys: British Edition. Ouch, Harry stop bloody flicking me! Doesn’t exactly help with your rugged persona!”

“Would you like me to take you into an alleyway and beat you up, then? What would a manly man do in a situation where some radio shithead’s offended his pride?”

“You’re asking the wrong radio shithead, love. Ask Fincham. He’d know.”

“You think Matt Fincham’d be able to help me puzzle out the ins and outs of masculinity?”

“Don’t sell him so short, Harry. Matthew Fincham has helped me figure out the enigmas of the universe.”

“Sounds philosophical.”

“It really wasn’t, we were just trying to figure out what really happened in LOST.”

“The true conundrum.”

“Do you ever listen to yourself speak? Who says conundrum? Are you even real, or are you my year seven maths teacher in a morphsuit?”

“Do you ever know when not to speak?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

They lapsed into silence again, the only sound Cornelia singing from the other room. Nick sighed happily, and snuggled in closer to Harry. He let his eyes fall closed and he nuzzled his face into the warm lap under him.

Harry was the one to break the quiet again.

“Nick?”

“Mmm?” Nick grunted, mouth partially obscured by sweet smelling boy.

“Do you really think the Ristorante Tre Monti idea is stupid?” Harry sounded hesitant, and unsure. Nick cracked open his eyes again, and creaked his neck to look up at him. The younger man was biting his lip, but looking straight back down at him.

He looked genuinely concerned, and so Nick couldn’t bear to do anything but answer him genuinely.

“No, I don’t think it’s stupid, Harry.” He said with a careful tone. “My idea of a good wedding would be quick “I do’s” in some sleazy church, before sneaking off with all the booze. Yours sounds like it’d be a beautiful wedding. Make sure I get an invite to it, yeah?”

Nick closed his eyes again, readjusting slightly in his warm cradle of popstar limbs.

It was a few minutes later, when Nick had already dozed off when Harry finally replied. He pushed Nick’s hair tenderly off his slack face.

“Yeah. I reckon you’ll get an invite.”

 

2.  
title: mandatory christmas gryles oneshot  
word count: 873  
summary: stay away from nick grimshaw is #1 on harry’s “things i can’t” list

 

christmas 2012

It’s their second Christmas together.

It’s their second Christmas together and Harry is trying not to read too much into it because everything about Nick is apt to fall apart and morph into something new at any moment. It’s not a bad thing, because it means there’s never a moment with Nick that feels boring, but its still A Thing. And Harry’s okay with it, because he’s in love with a fucking idiot and he already knew it came with the territory when he got himself into this mess.

It’s their second Christmas together, and Nick’s dad was enthralled when “that bloody Henry Stars” (Nick’s words, not his dads this time) showed up on their doorstep with leftover turkey from the mandatory Styles-Cox-Twist Christmas dinner. Harry love love loves spending time with his family, but it wasn’t his mum who he wanted to curl up next to and fall asleep with.

It had been such a frantic few days, with flights and parties and chin injuries and rumours, but Nick had a weird way of making him forget the world outside of the harrynick dynamic they had created for themselves. It had been a long drive and it was dark and the weather was sort of shit, but he was glad he turned up at the Grimshaw’s.

And honestly, Nick is the weirdest person he knows because Harry shows up at 11, the Mr and Mrs retire by midnight, and the three of them are dining again by 1 because Nick’s feeling a bit peckish. Not like he had spent the past couple of days feasting with his extended family and culminating calories like a recluse does cats. 

But like. It’s their second Christmas together, and their first as two people who are in love with each other, so Harry isn’t about to deny him a turkey sandwich. Especially when they’re just having a laugh, Aimee sneaking a picture because between her and Nick they can’t go any extended period of time without meticulous documentation on the internet.

Nick’s putting jam on some bread with a serious look on his face, before picking it up and shoving it at Harry. Harry doesn’t open his mouth fast enough and his face is covered in the sticky stuff. He’s squawking in scandalized indignation, and Aimee and Nick are laughing and exchanging self-satisfied looks. Harry always ends up the butt of their jokes and Harry doesn’t mind because they are both people that he likes immensely. He resigns to sulking, giving up on the dish he was preparing and letting the spoon clatter against the glass bowl.

Nick will pull Harry closer by the bottom of his shirt and he’ll put his forehead against Harry’s and his smile will only leave his face to kiss the jam off of Harry’s. Aimee will complain about the display but she’ll smile just as widely because she loves seeing the two of them being “domestic”, as Nick calls it. 

Nick will press a napkin against Harry’s face that Harry doesn’t see him pick up because he’s not bloody licking it off of his teenage skin, and Harry will make a joke somewhere along the way about food play and bringing some whip cream up to bed with them. Aimee will groan, Nick will wince, and Harry will preen happily because it’s not impressive and he’s not even trying hard and they still love him.

After they’ve stuffed their already bloated bellies further, Aimee will plead fatigue and go off to the guest room especially decked out for her (when Harry showed up, no one bothered finding a sleeping bag or pulling out a futon, because they all knew where Harry would be decidedly not sleeping that night). And Harry loves Aimee, and loves her company, but all he wants is Nick’s complete attention on him right now.

Nick and Harry don’t go up to bed right away, spend a bit more time in the kitchen washing up and catching up. they call and text and talk all the time, but it’s different when the distance is eliminated. Nick tells Harry about a new intern at the new studio that has the exact same hair as Harry and how he’s always distracted by curls in his peripheral vision. Harry tells nick about the woman at the gas station who told him the news that Usher was the first man in rap to come out of the closet. This leaves Nick gasping— in absolute stitches until he’s draped over Harry’s body and there’s suddenly no distance between their bodies whatsoever, and that’s A Thing of its own.

They’re still in the kitchen, and Nick is glancing over his shoulder every two minutes because Harry’s on the linoleum in front of him, and his mum is prone to getting up in the middle of the night for a fag.

He comes down his throat, all bitter and tasting of boyboyboy that Harry can not get enough of, no matter how slutty Nick says that makes him. Nick’s boneless and sleepy, but he promises to get harry off in bed if he promises to keep it down.

Harry relents, because this is their second Christmas together, and he can work with a handjob.

 

3.  
title: rockin’ the suburbs  
word count: 893  
summary: in which harry takes nick to the airport. and they also have two kids and have been married for 8 years. 

 

“Please, don’t worry about me.”

Harry sighed, long suffering, long used to it. “Of course I’m worrying. You absolute twat.”

Nick grinned. “Never took you as the jealous type, Harold. It’s adorable.”

“You’ve clearly never met me, even after all these years.” Harry whined, slotting his arm through Nick’s as they walked towards the airport gates. “How am I supposed to know that you’ve not run off with some hot model? One who is not as old as me?” 

“You’re not even 30 yet, love. 29’s a sexy age.” Regardless, he ducks his head and nuzzles against Harry reassuringly anyways. “But I’m flattered that you think me capable of pulling a model still.”

“You pulled me.”

“You calling yourself a model? Cocky, Styles. Cocky.”

Nick stopped at a table near the security gates. He set his bag down on the table, taking care to ensure it was close enough that no one would steal it. He collapsed in the seat with a huff, pulling Harry down to sit on his lap. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” Harry replied sourly, but he wrapped his arms around Nick’s neck all the same. “Can’t believe you’re leaving me alone with those little monsters.”

“They take after you, love. And that’s what we’ve hired the nanny for.”

“Ha ha, very hilarious.” Harry rested his head down on his own arms, nose nudging at Nick’s cheek. In a much softer tone, he continues. “I’ll miss you like mad.”

“I’ll miss you more. It’s just until the weekend, then I’ll be back.”

Nick could feel Harry’s face twist up in a smile. “Remember when it was me jetsetting across the planet every other week?”

“Yeah,” Nick said fondly, squeezing his husband tighter to him. “Now it’s my turn to be an important person. I’ve got first class, and all.”

Harry reached his hand out, and started stroking at Nick’s cheekbone with an absent finger. “You’ve always been an important person to me, babe.”

“Yeah, well. Now the Japanese want a piece of this Radio 1 Executive.” Nick closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of Harry’s stroking. “Wish you could come with.”

“Yeah, but Kennedy’s got her doctor’s app—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ll be back in time for her dance thingy.”

“Her ballet recital, you mean?” 

“Yes, that.” Nick inhaled deeply, and opened his eyes again. The clock on the wall told him he only had a few moments left. There were countless people walking around them, hurrying to catch their flights or pick up loved ones. Not one of them spared the two men a second glance. One Direction had faded years back; each of the members going their separate ways but keeping in touch. Louis had moved to Los Angeles and become a well-known actor. He was the most famous out of all the boys now. Niall was back in Ireland, and was never seen without a pint in his hand and his wife on his hip. Besides that, he wasn’t doing much. Zayn was a relatively famous model on the runways of high fashion, and was designing his own comic books on the side. Liam had 3 kids with Danielle, rivaling the Grimshaw-Styles brood. Though last Nick had heard, Danielle was pregnant again. Knowing his husband, he knew Harry would start dropping hints about having another baby. Nick really had to work on saying no to him. But who was he kidding? It hadn’t worked the last two times.

“Love, I’ve got to get on my way.”

“No,” Harry whined, cuddling in closer. 

“Yup.” He turned his head, pressing his lips onto Harry’s firmly. He hoped it would come across as no nonsense, let’s get productive kiss. 

It didn’t, judging by how Harry clung onto Nick, making small snuffling noises as he frantically kissed back. And again, Nick couldn’t deny Harry anything, even after nearly 8 years of marriage and four years of dating. 

Finally, Harry pulled away rather reluctantly. He peppered kisses around Nick’s mouth, still tracing his cheekbones. “I love you.”

Nick smiled, again taken aback by just how fully he loved the man before him. The silky curls, and the lips that were still as soft as they were when he was 18 and Nick was 27. “I love you. Give them a kiss for me, yeah?” 

Harry’s eyes were glossy, but no tears escaped. “Of course. I’ll show them a picture of you every night, so they don’t forget who you are by the time you come back.”

“Oy. It’s for three days. And Ryan’s only 8 months. He won’t even remember me being gone.”

“Exactly. And he won’t remember you being there, either.”

Nick scoffed, and he shoved Harry off of his lap and stood up. Harry hovered near him, and Nick was unsure if he was actually going to let him go. He picked up his bag, and kissed Harry on the cheek. “See you, love. I’ll bring you back a souvenir.” 

“Bring back a Japanese baby. I want one. And I get what I want.”

“Okay, but if I get you a black market Japanese baby, you’re definitely not getting a Tokyo t-shirt.”

Nick moved as if to walk away, but Harry pulled at his collar at the last second. “All I want back,” he said quietly, and Nick was ensnared. “Is you.”

Nick grinned. “You always get what you want.”


End file.
